Baby Love
by smartass.under.the.mountain
Summary: Thorin's wife(reader) is pregnant with his child and he's more excited than he's been in his whole life and he gets really really protective over her and loves to brag about how she's having HIS baby


Darkness gradually bows to a stream of intermingling soft blue and pink first light, peeking in through the high hexagonal window over the royal marriage bed. There, the awakened King Under the Mountain is propped on his side next to you, his sleeping beloved.

A thin line of a smile curls up, and you feel it beaming at you through your slumber.

Quietly and slowly pulling back the emerald green velvet comforter, he reveals most of your almond-colored silk nightgown-clad body. In the middle is a perfect, round tummy, full of life.

From the moment months ago when he learned why you were so tired and nauseous all the time, he has felt happiness he never knew existed in the world.

When the healer shared the news, you cried - tears of happiness and some uneasiness, being a relatively new queen and now, mother-to-be - and Thorin's stunned face froze for a good five minutes, processing the information. He thought of his difficult past and his bloodline, and then he thought of his child's future and from that moment on wanted nothing but the best for his heir.

Shortly thereafter, when you began to show, the healer said she suspected the baby was a girl, based on the way you carried (low), the way you walked (slow) and the gleam in your eye (bright glow).

Old silly myths to be sure,Thorin had scoffed.Dwarf girls are so rare.

Slowly but surely, his tune changed.

Thorin scoots down and leans forward. "Good morning, my princess. Do you hear your father's voice?"

The fabric over the bump bounces, and Thorin throws his head back and releases a laugh that sounds more like low clicks. He doesn't want to wake you, but the baby might.

He brings his gaze forward again to look at your belly, and places his first and second fingers on it, lightly moving the digits as one from the top to the bottom.

"My, how you've grown," he whispers excitedly.

"Not since early this morning," you murmur, beginning a slow torso twist through a long stretch.

Thorin moves his body back up so that he is face-to-face with you as you settle back down on your firm pillow. Both of you are smiling like the soon-to-be-parents you are, like the lovers you always will be.

He caresses your face tenderly. "It took me six seconds to make it from one end of the baby hill to the other. That's two more seconds than at 3 a.m.," he says.

You laugh heartily, becoming more and more awake, and he joins you with a deep chuckle.

"That is NOT how you measure the growth of our baby, King Thorin."

Thorin kisses your cheek and rests his hand atop the bump, feeling his heir lazily glide a limb from side to side.

"Our little princess understands how I check her progress," he says proudly.

"Princess?" You raise your eyebrows high. "You believe the healer now?"

"…Or Prince. It doesn't matter." He kisses you on the mouth this time, and for longer, as he thinks about how the unborn, newest addition to the line of Durin has made your angelic face glow with even more celestial brilliance.

Ready to start the day, you sit up fast on your bent elbows, taking in dawn's spectacular show of colors against every surface of the spacious bedchamber.

"Not so fast. You'll get overworked and lightheaded," Thorin says, placing his fingers on your wrist, checking your pulse to make sure your heart is beating normally.

"I will not!" you laugh.

"We must be careful, my love," he says, his voice and expression as protective as a mighty shield.

Your animated belly starts to roll.

"Ah, somersaults! Our warrior is training early!" Thorin says, his chest puffed out.

"I think the baby's hungry. I know I sure am."

Instantly, you're both reminded that you're having an early-morning breakfast with Fili, Kili, Balin and Dwalin before they depart on a three-day hunting trip.

Even though Thorin could go - you're a good four months from delivery - he doesn't dare leave your side to go galavanting through the forest. He could be mauled by a bear or gorged by a wild pig.

For the first time in his life, he is keenly, almost painfully aware of his mortality. He doesn't want to miss anything, or risk anything, before or after the baby comes.

The warrior in the King still lives, but the father in him reigns.

After bathing and getting dressed, you make your way arm-in-arm to the private dining room. Reserved for smaller parties, it is still large enough for a sizable feast, compared to the homes of even the richest of Men.

Thorin opens the carved black golden-streaked doors, greeting his family and friends with the same smile that beckoned you to wake. They are already sitting at the long table, sipping tea and coffee and chatting.

Thorin turns to you, then bows and extends his right arm graciously.

"My queen," he says humbly as you cross the threshold. Then, as he stands erect, he adds proudly, "who is having my child."

The others stand and bow. But unbeknownst to Thorin and you, half of them leak out quick exasperated breaths, and the other half gently roll their eyes.

None of them has ever seen Thorin this way. He's still strong and opinionated and stubborn and moody, but one look at you and your pregnant belly, and he turns to putty.

Giddy, proud, putty.

You acknowledge their shows of respect with a wide smile and nod, then invite everyone to retake their seats. Thorin hurries over and pulls your seat away from the table before the servant in the corner can do so.

You thank your husband and sit down. The servant walks over with a silver pot of steaming chamomile tea and fills your pretty cup.

Thorin asks - very politely in his gruff voice - for black coffee, and takes a seat at the head of the table.

"Thought maybe you'd forgotten to join us!" Balin says lightheartedly.

"My strong, active child will not allow us to forget to eat," Thorin says, taking a noisy slurp of his freshly poured hot beverage.

"Oh, no…" Dwalin grumbles, glaring at his brother for opening up the conversation. Balin's eyes widen and he shrugs as if to say, 'how was I to know?'

Kili doesn't help matters. He sounds like a happy laddie when he asks, "Uncle and Auntie, is my little cousin still tumbling at night?"

Thorin takes his napkin and slaps it to the table, peering down at Kili with a grave look, his brow furrowed, that transforms into sweetness and delight as his eyes shine.

"At night? At NIGHT?"

"Yes, at night," Dwalin mutters."Mahal…"

"At night, during the day, whenever his or her heart desires! My child is full of life at all hours! And she should-"

"-or he…" you offer.

"-and he or she should do as many somersaults as needed. We have a warrior in there!"

Fili and Dwalin trade a smirk after mouthing Thorin's last declaration, which he says every, single, blessed day.

Just then, a team of five servants comes in through the side entrance to the room that leads to the kitchens. Each person carries a golden tray of food. Placing them on gleaming white marble tiles lining the center of the lacy cloth-covered table, they remove the lids to reveal heaps of piping hot scrambled eggs, sausages and ham strips, roasted potatoes, pancakes, and biscuits.

Everyone ooh's and ahh's at the delicious display, and gives thanks and compliments to the staff, from the cooks to the servers, for all their hard work.

The helpers offer to serve but Thorin tells them that won't be necessary and excuses them from the room.

Everyone eagerly waits for the King to fill his plate first.

But instead, Thorin stands, grabs your plate and starts piling on the grub.

"Going to leave some for us, Uncle?" Fili asks after about a minute. He chuckles through the question but he's serious.

"My beautiful Queen and my growing child, which she is carrying, need more sustenance than any of us," Thorin says, adding a third pancake and a biscuit to the plate.

"Actually, that's, uh, not exactly true," Fili says cautiously.

"Who are you, a midwife?" Thorin says flatly, slathering maple syrup over the flat cakes.

"No, but we all need to eat, Uncle."

"He's right, my love. I can't possibly eat all of this," you fib, your eyes huge as he lowers the full plate before you with pride."But thank you. From both of us."

Thorin plants a kiss on your forehead, then sits and motions toward the food, telling everyone to help themselves. The guys go for it with joyous grunts and cheers.

Dwalin's plate rivals the Lonely Mountain in height when he's done. He tucks his napkin in the top of his tunic, rubs his hands together with a cackle, and on either side of his plate, he scoops up his fork in one hand, knife in the other, ready to dive in.

The last to go, Thorin slowly puts a few ham strips next to his big lump of eggs and glowers at Dwalin's plate several times, meeting his old friend's eyes as he scarfs down the ham.

"What?" Dwalin says, mouth full.

"If my Queen and my child want seconds…" Thorin starts.

"They've already got seconds and thirds and fourths!" Dwalin argues.

"Are you trying to say I gave them too much?" Thorin asks, tightening his jaw. And then his protective nature kicks in, and he worries that he did indeed give you too much, possibly causing bowel problems later.

"Well, if the baby booty fits!" Dwalin huffs. Thorin has always been his King, but when it comes to food, they can spar with the best of'em.

"Now, now, good friends," Balin interjects through chews, reaching over and warmly patting the King's back a few times before returning to his meal."There's plenty for us and most of the kingdom."

Then you take a moment to stop eating and run your fingers along the plump veins in Thorin's hand, resting near his plate.

He turns to you and smiles, immediately forgetting his annoyance with his cherished chum, forgetting the food, forgetting everyone at the table. You lean against the back of the chair and give it a gentle push away from the table, so he can see your tummy, which is bouncing with delight.

Thorin's shoulders, just a moment ago lifted and tight, relax and ease down. And while the two of you look down in awe at your happy baby, everyone else including Dwalin grins, watching both KingandQueen turn to giddy, proud, putty.


End file.
